


but i pinky promise i'll try

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Dick Pics, Fluff, M/M, Nolan plays hockey Travis does not, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Online Dating, Sexting, pretty angst-free tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22656799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Nolan flips to his messages, but as expected, it’s mostly just unoriginal openers—who’s going to respond tosup, honestly—and unflattering dick pics. He rolls his eyes and goes back to the profiles.He comes across one guy, just a scant two miles away, who actually has his face in his profile picture, which is a refreshing change. He’s cute, longish dark hair with a sneaky smile, and his name is Travis.Nolan has never started a conversation with anyone before, but again: antsy and horny. He debates for an embarrassingly long time over what to say and finally settles on something simple. And dumb, probably, but the magic of anonymity is that he doesn’t really give a shit. And at least it’s miles better than a dick pic of asoft dick, which Nolan didn’t know was actually a thing until he got more than one. The bar is low, is what he’s saying here.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 106
Kudos: 1099
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory disclaimer that this is obviously all ~fiction~
> 
> minor content warning: there is a very brief mention of an offscreen death of a child. nothing graphic is described, and the child isn’t a character. if you prefer not to read it, skim just a little when Nolan is pissed about the caps game and check back in when they’re eating ice cream.
> 
> title is from [feels like home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CekbqdmY1dM), which i highly recommend
> 
> thank you for reading, hope you like it! the second and final chapter will be up within a week, i pinky swear ;)

Nolan’s in a weird mood when he gets into his hotel room in Miami—or _Sunrise_, or wherever the fuck the Panthers’ arena is. They sat on the runway forever in Philly, waiting out some bad weather, so they’re way behind schedule and half of him is exhausted while the other half is ready to shake out of his own skin from being cooped up for too long.

He flops onto the bed in his sweats and takes a minute to breathe before he fishes for his phone in the sheets and navigates to Grindr, well-hidden in the depths of a random app folder. He still feels weirdly embarrassed whenever he opens the app, even though he’s a grown-ass adult, alone in his hotel room.

He’s never actually… Well, he’s never been brave enough—or stupid enough?—to meet anyone from Grindr in person. But he looks sometimes, and every once in a while he talks to someone. Not that often, though, because a lot of the guys are weird and awkward and Nolan can jerk off just fine on his own, thanks, without terrible dick pics and even worse sexting.

But he’s kind of in an antsy, horny mood, and it doesn’t hurt just to scroll. His own profile is pretty stark, just a fake name with no other info and a shirtless mirror shot that he was careful to make as anonymous as humanly possible. He felt like a tool taking it, but whatever. It looks pretty good.

He flips to his messages, but as expected, it’s mostly just unoriginal openers—who’s going to respond to _sup_, honestly—and unflattering dick pics. He rolls his eyes and goes back to the profiles.

He comes across one guy, just a scant two miles away, who actually has his face in his profile picture, which is a refreshing change. He’s cute, longish dark hair with a sneaky smile, and his name is Travis.

Nolan has never started a conversation with anyone before, but again: antsy and horny. He debates for an embarrassingly long time over what to say and finally settles on something simple. And dumb, probably, but the magic of anonymity is that he doesn’t really give a shit. And at least it’s miles better than a dick pic of a _soft dick_, which Nolan didn’t know was actually a thing until he got more than one. The bar is low, is what he’s saying here.

_Your smile is really nice_

He isn’t expecting a response, at least not right away, so he scrolls past a few other uninspiring profiles and then hangs out on Instagram for a while. Eventually he goes back to Grindr, and his heart rate kicks up a little bit when he sees he has a message from Travis.

_Wow dude I’m barely ever on grindr anymore but I will make an exception for those abs_

Nolan’s dumbass cheeks fill with heat, even though he knows it’s just a line. This is Grindr, that’s what it’s _for_. He stretches out on the bed and bites his lip as he thinks about what to say back.

_I bet you say that to all the guys_

_Hahaha I don’t  
Pinky swear  
But seriously congrats on the abs  
Or congrats to whoever’s pic you stole off the internet_

_What the fuck no_

It might just be a ploy, but Nolan doesn’t care, he has his pride. He pushes his sweats down a little, just past the jut of his hips, and hikes his shirt up. He messes a little with the angle of the bedside lamp until the light is flattering and then flexes, obviously, before he takes the picture.

_Okay maybe I believe you fuck_

_Pinky swear_

_lol  
So…what’re you angling for here_

Nolan’s cheeks are still burning. What is he supposed to say to that? He doesn’t exactly know the protocol here. They’ve exchanged, like, four messages, but he’s already half-hard and more than half-interested.

_I dunno  
I can’t meet up or anything, I don’t have much time_

He half-expects Travis to ghost him after that, to not be interested in talking if he can’t get his dick sucked in the next 20 minutes, but he gets another message immediately.

_That’s cool, I gotta meet my friends for dinner in like half an hour anyway  
Can I send you a pic_

Nolan was unaware that anyone ever _asked_ before sending a dick pic on Grindr. It’s certainly never happened to him before, and he forces himself to wait about ten seconds before he types out a _yes_. The picture he gets in return isn’t even a full-on dick pic, it’s just Travis’s hand on his stomach with his shirt rucked up, clearly hard in his boxers. It’s casual and doesn’t look like he was trying to make it overtly sexy, even though it obviously is. He’s tan and fit, and his fingers in the picture are slightly blurry, like maybe he was in the midst of scratching through the hair above the waistband of his boxers.

_Fuck_

Nolan’s been absently rubbing his hand over the front of his sweats ever since he got Travis’s first message, so he’s pretty close to hard himself. He takes another picture, angled a little lower, with his hand gripping his dick through the fabric.

_Cmon that’s just not fair  
Are these pics actually real_

Nolan sends another one, almost exactly the same but with a thumbs up, and he gets a laughing emoji from Travis. Then an actual dick pic, and Nolan’s mouth is suddenly, painfully dry. He swallows with effort and gets his hand into his sweats.

They exchange a few more pictures, and Nolan ends up with a very satisfying orgasm, feeling like all the stress and agitation has been burned right out of him. He stares up at the ceiling as he breathes through it, slowly letting the feeling come back into his limbs, and eventually picks his phone up from his chest. 

_Well…that was way more fun than taking a nap  
Thanks buddy_

He adds a couple of those blushy face smiling emojis, and since no one is here to see it, Nolan smiles.

_Right back atcha  
Have a good night_

* * *

Nolan doesn’t allow himself to go on Grindr when he’s in Philly. Even though he’s never met anyone and he definitely doesn’t plan to, it still just feels too dangerous. He knows nothing is substantially different, being anonymous here or somewhere else, but delusionally, he feels safer when he’s in Nashville or California or something. He figures he can make an exception, though, if he opens the app just to look at the pics Travis sent him again.

He clicks on his profile, just because, and his mouth drops a little in surprise when he sees the location: Travis is, somehow, only three miles away. He sends a message before he even really registers what he’s doing.

_Wait are you in philly now?_

_Yeah I live here dude!  
I was just on vacation with some buddies  
You too?  
What a coincidence_

_Yeah I was in fl for work  
Vacation sounds more fun tho what’d you do_

_Not a lot, mostly just enjoyed not freezing my balls off  
Went fishing, went to the flyers game_

Nolan grimaces at that. Shit. There goes his carefully-constructed fantasy of somehow meeting up with a guy who has no idea who he is. The fantasy which has admittedly gotten a lot more detailed since he talked with Travis a few days ago.

_Jealous. Good fishing?_

Travis sends a picture, him on a boat holding up a giant fish. He’s shirtless and tan, with his hat on backward and a big grin, and it is, objectively, not a bad look.

_Looking good  
The fish, I mean_

_HEY  
But you’re not wrong, it was a 30 pounder _

_Nice_

_What do you do for work?_

Shit, Nolan should’ve thought this through. It’d be weird to not answer the question, right? He racks his brain for something vague that hopefully won’t elicit more follow-up questions.

_Consulting_

_That’s cool_

_Not really lol  
Kinda boring and I travel a lot_

_Bet you look good in a suit tho_

_I’ll take a pic next time and you can be the judge_

_Deal_

_What about you?_

_I’m a paramedic_

_Oh wow  
Like an emt?_

_Basically  
More school tho and we can do more things than an emt _

_You like it?_

_I do yeah  
Lots of people get burned out from the stress and the schedule and stuff but I still like it for now haha_

_How old are you?_

_25_

_Same_

Might as well lie about that, too.

_I gotta run to work actually but…we should talk later  
If you know what I mean_

He sends a couple eggplant emojis along with the eyes, and Nolan snorts.

_Yeah yeah I got it_

* * *

Nolan, like every other self-respecting hockey player, has a rigid pregame routine, and he leaves the dressing room exactly on time to go play two-touch. The normal crew of guys is back there, ready to play, and the ambulance is parked off to the side like usual, with two guys in uniform leaning against the back door.

For some reason Nolan’s gaze slides over them for an extra second, and he stutters to a stop when he realizes that the shorter guy is most definitely Travis. Holy shit. He quickly turns around, putting his back to him, even though…well, there’s no way Travis would recognize him, he doesn’t know who he is.

He manages to push it out of his mind, kind of, at least until Carter sends the ball flying over Nolan’s head. He’s closest, unfortunately, so he forces himself to turn around and go get it.

Travis is already chasing after the ball, and then they’re just standing there, about six feet apart. They talk every day now—Travis is funny and interesting, turns out, not only hot, and they just chat and hang out as often as they get off—and it’s surreal to see him in person. He’s shorter than Nolan probably would’ve guessed, but the smile is familiar.

He swallows. _Act normal_, he tells himself. His face feels hot, but he can blame that on the exercise.

“Uh, sorry about that.”

Travis smirks at him and tosses the ball underhand. “No problem, dude.”

Nolan catches it easily and is kind of frozen there for a second, until Claude yells at him. “Patty! Look alive, let’s go.”

Nolan rolls his eyes and turns around. “Chill the fuck out.”

He gets through the game without a problem, because he’s a fucking professional, but he can’t resist messaging Travis as soon as he gets home.

_How was your day, did you have a shift?_

_Yeah worked tonight on call at the flyers game_

_That’s cool. You do that often?_

_Just a couple times a season, we aren’t the regular crew  
It’s cool to be at a game but it’s kinda boring  
Assuming nothing happens, which is obvi the goal_

This is wading into dangerous territory, but Nolan just can’t help himself.

_You like the flyers?_

_Yeah! Not like a super fan or anything but I watch when I can  
I played a little growing up too  
And hockey players are hot so_

_Hockey players are gross_

Nolan is qualified to give an opinion on this, and he’s right.

_Not into the toothless long hair look???_

_Not the teeth thing_

_Yeah me neither. Don’t mind the hair though_

_Mine’s kinda long, similar to yours_

_Gonna let me see?_

_No :)_

_You’re so shy_

_Just private I guess, sorry_

_No it’s cool! I wasn’t complaining_

_Is that weird? I don’t really know what other guys do on here_

_lol  
Bold of you to assume I talk to other guys on here_

_You don’t?_

_I wasn’t lying before, I barely ever use grindr anymore  
You’re my one and only baby_

There’s like four of those winking, tongue-out emojis, and Nolan shakes his head, biting back a smile.

_I mean same  
This app is weird_

_So feel free to say no  
But wanna move to snap or something?  
It’d be nice not to have to see a bunch of other dicks whenever I wanna talk to you  
Literally_

Nolan blinks down at his phone. That’s—leaving Grindr seems a little scary. But he can create an anonymous account on Snapchat just as easily, he supposes.

_Let’s do it_

* * *

Nolan forgets about one very specific advantage of Snapchat until he lands in Columbus and sees a few notifications from Travis. He doesn’t let himself check them until he’s in his hotel room, alone with the door locked, and in bed. It’s a video, ten glorious seconds of him jerking off, and Nolan’s mouth goes dry. He almost can’t look at it at first, there’s just too much to take in.

But it’s on loop, thank god, and there’s even audio. Travis isn’t talking or anything, just breathing, but he makes this noise as he comes, right at the very end, this ragged, harsh inhale that Nolan needs to hear about a dozen more times.

He focuses on something different each time it loops through, the slick slide of Travis’s hand and the sharp cut of his hip and the bunching muscles in his forearm, and ends up coming so fast that he surprises himself. He stares up at the ceiling, breathing hard, and finally swipes out of the video.

He meant to take a video of his own, but instead he takes a picture of the aftermath and sends it. It’s really late, so he goes to sleep without waiting for a response.

In the morning, he checks his phone while he’s brushing his teeth.

_No video in return??_

_Dude I came too fast  
Your own fault_

_Hahahaha_

He gets in the shower and brings his phone with him. Getting the angle right is tricky, since he doesn’t want any of his tattoos to show, but he eventually finds one that works and sends off a video.

_I have to leave for work in 15 minutes, do I want to open that snap_

_Probably not_

Travis doesn’t respond right away, so Nolan puts his phone down to actually take a shower. He smiles as he reads the messages when he gets out.

_Too late  
Jesus  
Fuck you dude, I had to go jerk off and now I’m probably gonna be late for work_

_Again, seems like your own fault_

_No this one is definitely on you  
Goddamn warn me next time if you’re gonna be in the SHOWER_

Nolan holds his towel low around his hips with one hand and uses the other to take a picture in the mirror in the entryway.

_Dudeeee stop I gotta go_

_Talk to you later then  
Have fun at work_

_Hate you_

* * *

_So not that this isn’t great  
Cause it is  
But what do you think about meeting up in person?_

Oh fuck.

Nolan has been dreading this. He figured it was coming; honestly, he’s surprised they lasted this long without Travis bringing it up. He can’t meet up with him—he just _can’t_—and selfishly, he wants to just keep doing what they’ve been doing. Even though it’s not fair to Travis, who is, by all accounts, normal and nice and handsome and deserves to date a real person who isn’t just a nameless, faceless stranger on his phone.

Nolan doesn’t respond to his messages for a little while because he doesn’t know what to say. And he’s a little sad, frankly, because this is probably the beginning of the end. So he goes out to team dinner and doesn’t reply until he’s back home, in bed with the lights off.

_I mean  
I want to  
But I’m not really out_

Nolan’s prepared to wait. He knows Travis isn’t working tonight, but it’s pretty late and Nolan _did_ ignore him for a few hours. He gets a response pretty quickly, though, and his heart starts to pound a little in his chest.

_Like at work?_

_Like at all  
Only my sister knows, literally no one else_

_Shit, dude  
Your family and stuff, you think they wouldn’t be cool with it?_

_I think they probably would actually it’s just…complicated_

Nolan definitely shouldn’t be telling him all this stuff, but he’s a little drunk from dinner and it just—comes out.

_I’ve never even kissed a guy before  
Or done anything else_

_Is it like a religion thing?_

_No  
I definitely want to  
Like I said, it’s complicated. Haven’t really had the opportunity_

_I’ve seen what you look like, I have a hard time believing that_

Nolan has to put his phone down and breathe for a second. He doesn’t want to lie about this, but it’s not like he can explain the whole situation. He’ll have to settle for half-truths.

_Just shy I guess_

_Well I recommend it, it’s great_

_What hooking up with guys?_

_Yeah  
Me in particular_

_Yeah you get good reviews?_

_Awesome. I can let you look at the comment cards  
Give you some references_

_I have…no references lol_

_I mean  
This is super gross and possessive  
But that’s pretty hot_

_I thought it would be the opposite_

_It’s not lol  
That probably sounds creepy sorry_

Nolan's heart is pounding. His chest feels weird and tight, and he’s pretty sure he’s been holding his breath by accident.

_It’s okay  
What would you do_

_Fuck  
Literally everything  
Anything you wanted  
Think I’d start by watching you jerk off_

_You already do that now_

_Yeah but it’d be different  
When I’m not there I can’t kiss you  
Or touch your dumb abs, your chest  
Are your nipples sensitive_

God, Nolan’s face is probably glowing in the dark.

_Yeah  
Could I suck you off_

_If you wanted  
Wanna do you first tho I wanna see your face  
Make you come_

_You’re already pretty good at that_

_Always room for improvement :)  
You said your hair’s long, right?  
Wanna pull it, wanna hold your hips down_

_Hang on_

Nolan’s somehow held off on touching himself, and he’s rock-fucking-hard in his boxers. He kicks the comforter down to his thighs and turns on his bedside lamp so he has enough light to take a video. He records himself working his boxers down, just enough to get his dick out, and he inhales sharply as he wraps a hand around himself. He leaves the audio on and sends it.

_God you’re hot  
Wish I were there_

He imagines it, Travis on top of him, sturdy and warm, one hand tight in his hair to hold him in place while they kiss. It’s difficult, to work through the fantasy in his head and jerk off and type out what he’s feeling, all at the same time, but he tries. He switches hands so he can type more easily with his right, which gives the added benefit of using his non-dominant hand to jerk off. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s Travis’s.

_Me too  
Want you on top of me, your hand in my hair  
Think I’d like it_

_Fuck baby  
Wanna try everything_

_Well  
Baby is something new_

_Hahaha  
Good/bad?_

He sends another video, just a few slow strokes, up and down, and lets that speak for itself.

_Fuck  
You ever think about fucking me? Or me fucking you_

Nolan’s hand speeds up, of its own accord, and he forces himself to slow down again.

_Yeah  
Both, maybe. I dunno_

_I totally would, either way  
I like both, gotta figure out what you like_

Nolan closes his eyes and can’t settle on a single image, lets his mind flick through the thought of Travis blowing him, fucking him, the other way around. He’s right on the edge when another message comes through, making his eyes flutter open as his phone vibrates in his hand, and he comes hard with a choked-off groan.

_Anything you want baby_

* * *

When Nolan resurfaces from an 12-hour migraine hangover, he has a bunch of texts and a bunch of messages from Travis. He ignores the texts and snorts as he scrolls through Travis’s messages and reads the final two.

_Are you ghosting me  
Is this the beginning of the end_

_Sorry I was sick_

_Shit dude that sucks  
You okay?_

_Yeah. Just had to sleep for like a day  
It’s a chronic thing that pops up every once in a while  
Really sucks_

_Do you have soup? You should have soup_

Nolan smiles.

_No soup  
Not really that kind of sick_

_I am a medical professional you know  
Soup solves most things_

_What do medical professionals like yourself recommend for migraines_

Whatever, lots of people get migraines, it’s not identifying.

_Ughhh sorry bud  
Should you even be on your phone?_

_Yeah it’s over I just feel gross now_

_Go for a walk and then take a hot shower_

Nolan winces. He should, probably, he knows it, but he also can’t imagine getting out of bed.

_But it’s cold outside_

_It’s above freezing!  
Just around the block, the fresh air’ll make you feel better_

Nolan sighs and drags himself out of bed. At least these are rare now and it’s an off day. He leaves his sweats on, pulls a hoodie over his head, and then sends Travis a three-second video of him stuffing his feet into a pair of sneakers.

_You’re out of bed!_

_I’m literally only going around the block  
Send me pics so I can jerk off in the shower when I get back_

_Hahaha fine  
Guess you deserve a reward_

_You think highly of yourself huh_

_Hey you’re the one who asked bud_

* * *

“Love you, too,” Nolan says into the phone. He’s proud of how steady his voice is. He’s leaning over his breakfast bar, his head resting in his hand. “I’ll call you this weekend.”

He ends the call and drops his phone with a little clatter, flattening both hands on the counter and focusing on the feel of the cool stone underneath his palms.

Once his heart is racing a little less, he picks up his phone again and messages Travis.

_So I told my mom today_

_Holy shit!!!  
Dude that’s awesome, congrats  
How’d it go??_

_Pretty good  
She cried but I think just because I hadn’t told her earlier_

_That’s like totally up to you though  
She didn’t make you feel bad about it did she_

_No not at all  
She understood why I waited  
It was good_

_So cool  
Proud of you man  
Did you get a mom hug? Mom hugs are the best_

_No she doesn’t live here  
I get to see her next month tho_

_So…celebratory sex?_

_We JUST talked about my mom I’m gonna need like a minute_

* * *

Nolan is still fuming when he walks into his apartment, a good hour or so after the game. They lost to the Caps by one, which would normally be whatever, good close game or something, but with 30 seconds left Nolan got a juicy rebound on an empty fucking net and fanned on his shot. It happens, he knows, he gets it, but he still feels like shit. He’s probably going to see that damn net in his dreams tonight.

Maybe jerking off would make him feel better. He changes into sweats and flops down onto his couch before sending Travis a picture of his legs, crossed at the ankle. It doesn’t take him long to respond.

_Hey_

_What’s up how was your day_

_Really shitty_

Nolan waits a minute, but nothing else comes after that.

_Yikes that sucks  
You wanna talk about it_

_You sure?_

_Yeah of course_

_A kid died on my shift today_

_Oh fuck  
Man I’m so sorry_

_Car accident  
We did everything we could, she didn’t even make it to the hospital  
Her name was Jessica, she was 8_

Nolan doesn’t know what to say. He’s sitting up now, elbows on his knees as he stares at his phone.

_That’s awful  
Are you okay?  
Sorry that’s probably a dumb question but_

_No I know what you mean  
I guess  
I’ve never lost a kid before_

_I wish I could give you a hug  
Sorry is that too soft_

_Haha no  
I could really use a hug not gonna lie_

A bolt of adrenaline shoots through him, like when someone drops their gloves on the ice, and Nolan is suddenly so _angry_ at this entire fucking situation. This guy, this guy who he really likes but is too much of a coward to actually _know_, is out there somewhere in the city, sad and alone and Nolan can’t do shit about it. He meant it, he just wants to tuck him under his arm and give him a hug. He runs through a couple of increasingly unrealistic scenarios in his head—he can’t, like, send him flowers or something, that’s weird and also impossible—before he forces himself to take a breath.

_Where are you?_

_Just home on my couch_

_Do you have ice cream_

_What? Yeah why_

_I’m gonna have some, you should join me_

He gets up and digs through his freezer for the ice cream that he probably shouldn’t have. Who the fuck cares. He spoons out two big scoops and sends Travis a picture.

_Vanilla??  
Wow boring_

_What’s your favorite TV show to watch when you’re sad?_

_Parks and rec_

_K put it on_

_Which episode?_

_Uh…the snake juice one_

_Haha good call_

Nolan turns on his TV, finds the episode, and takes a picture.

_Wow I shoulda gone into consulting, that is a giant TV_

_It’s not that big_

_Well I know that’s not true_

_Stop making sex jokes and eat your ice cream_

Travis sends a picture of his own, with his ice cream in his lap and his feet on his coffee table and the TV on in the background.

_Ready? Start it now_

_K it’s on_

_How was your day? Tell me something good_

Nolan racks his brain for something innocuous. He certainly doesn’t give a shit about his bad game anymore.

_I got to pet a dog today_

_You can’t say that and not have pics_

One of the guys brought their new puppy to morning skate that day, and Nolan does have a couple pictures of the puppy in his lap, him sitting on the floor. All he has to do is crop one a little so the Flyers logo on his sweats isn’t visible.

_Oh my god so cute  
The dog not you that is_

_Very funny_

_I wish I could have a dog  
My hours are too weird though_

_Yeah same  
Too much travel :(  
What would you name it?_

_I love old man names for dogs  
Like Carl or Walter or Arthur or something_

_Earl  
Herman_

_Yes!  
Eugene_

_A giant dog named Eugene would be awesome_

They watch three episodes, until Nolan starts to doze off on his couch and he has to tell Travis he’s going to bed.

_Yeah me too  
Thank you  
You’re the best_

His cheeks heat, and he types quickly.

_I didn’t do anything_

_Yeah you did_

Travis sends a picture a few minutes later, smiling a little with his face tucked into his pillow, his hair messy against the familiar blue sheets on his bed. Nolan almost can’t look at it, which is ridiculous considering the other pictures he’s gotten from him. But he manages and he even screenshots it, although Travis will know and it’s also a dumb idea, probably, to have that picture on his phone. Whatever.

* * *

_Okay so  
I don’t want to hound you or do anything to make you uncomfortable  
But just like, for the record, meeting you would be cool  
Just let me know if you ever want to  
I won’t bring it up again_

Nolan wants to, so badly. They talk all the time—so much so that the entire team is convinced he has a secret girlfriend—and as much as Nolan would like to believe otherwise, he knows they can’t just keep doing this forever. But he runs through the worst case scenario again in his head, and it’s…pretty bad.

_Why do you want to meet_

_Cause I like you dude, I want to actually know you  
Not to like fuck or whatever_

Nolan sends one of the smirking emojis.

_You don’t wanna fuck me?_

_Oh no I want to  
One hundo percent_

Nolan cannot believe he is attracted to someone who unironically says “one hundo percent.”

_I think about it all the time  
My exclusive spank bank material  
Just saying that’s not all I want_

This is so dumb, _this_ of all things shouldn’t be what’s making Nolan’s face heat and his stomach flip over.

_I really like you too  
What if you don’t want to once you know who I am?_

_Are you like a serial killer or something?  
Of course I will  
Wait actually though are you a serial killer_

_No_

_I feel like that’s what a serial killer would say!!!  
But seriously  
I just like you dude, I’d like to also know you in person_

_You know I’m not out, I’m just nervous sorry_

_Don’t be sorry  
I don’t you don’t really know me but you can trust me  
We can just meet for coffee or something  
Nothing weird about two guys at starbucks in the middle of the day_

Nolan breathes out. That’s—that’s true. What’s the worst case scenario of that, specifically? Travis will know who he is, he’s pretty sure of that. So he could, what, publish their messages somewhere? But none of his pictures or his messages have his name, his face, or anything identifying. So it would just be his word against Nolan’s. Which would _suck_, dealing with that shit—he recoils at the mere thought—but nobody could prove anything, Nolan’s fairly confident.

And…and he just doesn’t think Travis wouldn’t do something like that.

He types before he can lose the courage.

_Okay  
What’s your work schedule like?  
I’m free in the afternoon Tuesday or Thursday_

_Holy shit really??_

_Yeah  
Please say yes before I change my mind_


	2. Chapter 2

Nolan sits in his car, in a parking lot two blocks away from Starbucks, for a solid 10 minutes. He procrastinates by checking his Twitter, then Instagram, then Snapchat, even his email, but he’s just flipping through without registering anything.

Finally, once he’s on the verge of being late, he ignores all of his self-preservation instincts and calls his sister.

“What’s up, Patty?”

“I’m about to meet a guy from Grindr, thought I should tell you just in case he murders me or whatever.”

There’s silence, and Nolan grimaces as he gets out of the car. It’s cold, and he forgot his gloves, so he pulls his hat down lower over his head and pulls his coat tighter around himself.

“You’re about to what now?” she says. It’s kind of more of a screech.

“Just for like, coffee. In public. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big…holy shit. Who the fuck is this person? What are you—I don’t even know what to say.”

Nolan lowers his voice. “His name is Travis, we’ve been talking for like, a month.”

“A _month_?” That’s definitely a screech. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just—I will.”

“What’s his last name?”

“I have no idea. He’s a paramedic.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“Um, he will in about five minutes.”

“Oh my god. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“No,” he says honestly. “Not at all. But I really like him, and I want to meet him.”

“Oh my god,” she says again. “I—”

“I gotta go, actually.”

“Fuck, give a girl a second to process. You never told me you were on _Grindr_.”

“I don’t think that’s really a thing guys tell their sisters.”

“Text me in an hour, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Seriously. If you don’t, I’m going to fly out there and kill you myself, if Travis the paramedic hasn’t already. So be safe. Sex-wise, obviously.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nolan says, then hangs up on her.

He’s less nervous than he expected, actually. Like, he’s _nervous_, for sure, and not entirely unconvinced that he’s about to fuck up his whole life, but it’s more the excited kind rather than the heart-stopping, panicky kind. Plus, it’s done, he’s made the decision that he’s doing this, so he might as well go along with it. He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he stood Travis up.

He steps through the door and immediately spots Travis, who’s sitting at a table for two by the wall, looking down at his phone. He already has a coffee cup in front of him, so Nolan quickly steps into line before he looks up. He just gets a plain coffee, so he doesn’t have to wait any longer than necessary for them to make a drink, and comes up behind Travis before sliding into the seat across from him.

Travis looks up from his phone, and his eyes widen as he clearly recognizes Nolan. “Uh, hey, man. Not to…not to be rude or whatever, but that seat’s taken, I’m actually kind of waiting for someb—”

“Dude,” he says flatly. Travis blinks at him for a second, as Nolan tries to project _hello yes it’s me _with his eyes, then he makes this surprised noise before bumping the table with his knee and spilling his coffee everywhere.

Nolan puts his head in his hands. He can feel everyone in their immediate vicinity looking at them, way to stay under the radar.

When looks up again, Travis is frantically mopping up his spilled coffee. “Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “Are you kidding me right now, is this some kind of prank?”

“No.” Nolan takes a sip of his so-far-unspilled coffee. “Pinky swear.”

“You—” Travis runs both hands through his hair, unsettling and resettling his hat, then leans forward and lowers his voice. He still looks kind of frenzied. “How am I supposed to react to this in a public place?”

“Ideally, better than you just did,” Nolan says, and try as he might, he can’t quite hold back a smile. He clenches his jaw to hide it, but he doesn’t think he does a good job because Travis laughs and then smiles at him, that same smile from his profile picture that got Nolan’s attention in the first place.

“Fuck you, dude. What the actual fuck.”

He’s still smiling, though, so Nolan doesn’t think he’s actually mad.

“Hi,” he says, then immediately feels dumb. It’s just so strange to sit across from him and hear his voice and see him in 3D and not just on Nolan’s phone screen.

“Can we, like, get out of here? Not to—” Travis cuts himself off and looks around. “You know. Just to, like, walk or whatever. I can’t just—sit here.”

Nolan nods. His own knee is bouncing under the table, walking around would probably be a good idea. Travis stands, and Nolan has to fist his hand in his pocket to keep from reaching out.

As soon as they get outside, Nolan gives into the urge, stepping close and catching his arm. “You can’t—” He swallows and tries again, quieter this time. “You can’t tell anyone, okay. Nobody.”

Travis hooks his pinky around Nolan’s for a second, so quick he barely registers it. He’s not wearing gloves, either, so he’s as dumb as Nolan. “I would never, I promise. Like I said, you can trust me.”

Nolan probably shouldn’t, but he believes him.

So they walk. There’s a little park nearby, which, thanks to the biting weather, is practically empty. The trees are barren, and Nolan’s shoulders relax a little when he can’t see anyone in earshot.

“Did you know it was me?”

“Did I know it was _you_?” Travis repeats, incredulous. His voice turns sarcastic. “Yeah, talking to an anonymous hot guy on Grindr, my first thought was _definitely_, oh, that must be Nolan Patrick.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, and Travis laughs.

“I really didn’t know what to expect. I figured it’d be someone who was like, insanely closeted or something.” Nolan gives him a look because _duh_, and Travis makes a face. “Yeah, but—those are like, circumstances. Understandable ones. It’s not that you’re crazy in denial or you think all gay people are sinners or whatever, right? So yeah, this is a hell of a lot better than some of my worst case scenarios.”

“Not a serial killer,” Nolan reminds him, and Travis laughs.

“See? This is great.”

“You should have higher standards.”

“I mean—wait, holy shit.” Travis grabs his arm and stills him. “That night I worked at the game, I saw you, did you—”

“Yeah, thanks for that, I almost had a fucking heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” he says, laughing. “Amazing.”

“I was afraid I was gonna, like, give it away or something, I could barely look at you.”

“You didn’t have to worry about it, I literally never would’ve guessed.”

Nolan takes a sip of his rapidly-cooling coffee. “That was the night I asked you if you liked hockey.”

“That’s right, very sneaky. What would’ve you have done if I told you I was like, obsessed with the Flyers and especially with you? Had your jersey and everything.”

“Uh, woulda been pretty weirded out, probably.” Nolan glances at him. “Are you?”

“No, sorry to disappoint,” Travis says, grinning, and Nolan rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t lying before, just a casual fan. I watch sometimes, but I think I’ve only been to, like, one game. Besides for work.”

“We could change that.”

“Well, you know, this whole thing will be worth it as long as I get some free tickets.”

“Playing the long game, I get it,” Nolan says. He was worried that this would be awkward, at least at the beginning, but it’s not—at least not until right now, now that he’s thinking about it. He clears his throat. “Are you mad?”

“That you’re, uh, who you are?”

“Yeah. And that I didn’t tell you.”

Travis doesn’t even hesitate before he shakes his head. “You only lied about what, your name and your job?”

“I’m also only 23,” he says.

“You told the truth about all the important shit, right?” he asks, then shrugs when Nolan nods. “Then I get it, dude. I mean, it would’ve sucked if we’d talked for, like, months and months without meeting. But you have a lot to lose, of course you couldn’t be honest with me.”

Nolan doesn’t really know what to say to that. “Well…thanks for being cool about it.”

“And thank you for not being a serial killer, dude.”

* * *

The buzzer by his front door goes off while Nolan’s staring into his closet, and he jerks in surprise, even though he’s been expecting it. There’s no more time to stress about it, so he reaches for a random white t-shirt and tugs it over his head. That’ll have to do, even though Nolan isn’t sure if it’s appropriate or not, he doesn’t know what guys wear on dates with other guys. Because this _is_ a date, basically, even though it’s just takeout at Nolan’s apartment—he does not trust himself to be out in public with Travis and not, like, show it all over his face.

He buzzes Travis in and stands impatiently by the door until he hears the faint _ding_ of the elevator. He opens it—because who cares if Travis thinks he’s eager, he probably already knows—and is weirdly relieved to see Travis wearing jeans and a t-shirt, too.

“Hey.” He grins, and the butterflies in Nolan’s stomach can’t decide if they want to settle down or flutter harder. “I brought beer.”

“Thanks.” Nolan takes it from him and ushers him inside. “You want one?”

Travis makes a face. “I shouldn’t, probably. I actually have to cover someone’s shift tonight, last minute, so I have to leave in a couple hours.”

“Oh.” Nolan hesitates. “You could’ve—we could’ve done this another time.”

“No way, dude, aren’t you leaving tomorrow?” Travis looks around pointedly at his empty kitchen. “And you were gonna make me dinner, right?”

Nolan rolls his eyes and yanks open his drawer full of takeout menus.

Overall, the night is great. Really great, actually. Nolan was worried before that they wouldn’t get along, that the easy chemistry they found while messaging wouldn’t translate in person, at least for longer than the half hour or so they chatted before. But they do, and it does.

So yeah, it’s great. Except for the fact that Travis hasn’t touched him.

Hasn’t come near him, actually—they even sat a good half-meter apart on the couch while they ate dinner and played Fortnite and watched a little Netflix. Nolan knows it’s probably just because Travis is trying to take it slow, waiting until they actually get know each other a bit, but the less rational part of his brain is panicking a little.

So it’s definitely the less rational part of his brain that pushes Travis up against the wall next to the door just as he’s about to leave. He inhales, kind of sharply, which is satisfying, and has to look up at Nolan with how close they are.

“Oh. Hello.”

Nolan swallows. “You haven’t—done anything.”

He smiles, just a tiny, smirky one, and looks down at Nolan’s hand on his chest. Nolan has to resist the urge to, like, grab hold of his shirt and keep him there. “What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know,” Nolan admits. “Something.”

“Maybe I was waiting for you to do something.”

“I want to kiss you,” he blurts out. That’s definitely not sexy, not at all, but Travis laughs, his smile getting wider, and he’s still laughing as he curls a hand around the nape of Nolan’s neck and tugs him down a couple inches.

“Awesome,” he says, in an earnest and totally dorky way, and that relaxes Nolan enough so that he can close his eyes and tip forward until their lips meet.

It’s quiet for a minute, dry and soft and kind of gentle, until Travis’s fingers on his neck dig in a little tighter and catch in his hair, sending a shiver down Nolan’s spine. And then it’s hot and slick and Travis makes a noise and what the _fuck_, why weren’t they doing this weeks ago. Nolan’s skin feels too small for his body, tight and straining, as he crowds closer and tries to take as much of Travis’s mouth as he can.

“Thank fuck,” Travis murmurs into the kiss, an indeterminate amount of time later, and Nolan pulls back.

“What?”

He shrugs and looks bashful, strangely. His cheeks are a little red, and Nolan wants to keep him that way. “I thought you might not—I dunno if you still wanted me. Like that.”

“Idiot,” Nolan says, not unkindly, and kisses him again. He presses him against the wall, harder this time, and Travis pushes right back, but not like he’s trying to get away, like he’s trying to get as close as possible. He’s on his toes, probably about two seconds away from actually climbing him, and Nolan’s hand on his ass isn’t exactly discouraging it.

Eventually, Travis pulls back and rests his forehead against Nolan’s shoulder. He’s breathing fast, and Nolan can feel the thump of his heart under the hand that’s still on his chest. “I really do have to go. Unfortunately.”

Nolan nods against his hair. “Okay. I’m gonna go jerk off, though.”

Travis groans, and his arms tighten around Nolan’s back. “Damn. All right. I’m leaving.”

“Lives to save, et cetera, et cetera.”

He leans back just enough so Nolan can see his face. “So when are you back?”

“Uh, Tuesday in Detroit, Thursday in Buffalo. So, super late Thursday night. When do you work?”

“I’ll double-check, but I think I have a day shift all day Friday. So I could come over Friday night, if you don’t mind me being tired.”

“Come over,” Nolan says, then has to kiss him again.

“Fine, I guess,” Travis says into his mouth, then squirms away with a yelp when Nolan digs his fingers into his ribs.

* * *

The road trip is kind of torture.

They play well, thankfully, and throwing himself into his hockey is a very useful distraction. He and Travis talk a lot but don’t do anything else, which would normally be strange for them but Nolan’s had his tongue in his mouth so everything is strange now, apparently.

Friday eventually rolls around, and after Nolan sleeps in an appropriate amount, he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. They have the day off, so he can’t even go to the rink. He goes out to lunch with a couple guys, calls his mom, runs a couple errands he’s been putting off, takes a long shower, and even does his laundry.

Finally, right before he’s just antsy enough to actually clean his apartment, it’seight o’clock, and he’s buzzing Travis in. Waiting for him to come up is enough time for Nolan to worry about how to greet him—do they hug? would that be awkward? kiss? is that too forward?—but then Travis comes through the door and kisses him, just a firm press of lips, before Nolan can overthink it anymore.

“Hi.”

“Hey, how was work?”

“Long-ass day, but now I’m here.”

He smiles, and it’s hard for Nolan not to smile back. “Food? I was gonna order something.”

“I’m starving, I’ll eat literally anything.”

“Pizza?”

“Sounds awesome.” Travis yawns so big his jaw cracks. “Okay if I take a quick shower?”

“Uh, sure. You need clothes or whatever?”

Travis jerks his head toward his backpack, and Nolan tries not to be disappointed. “Anything besides mushrooms!” he yells over his shoulder on his way toward the bathroom.

Nolan places the order, turns on Netflix, and tries not to think about Travis in his shower. It doesn’t really work, but he manages to distract himself enough on his phone that he’s only half-hard in his sweats by the time the water shuts off and Travis comes out.

Nolan looks at him over the back of the couch. His hair’s damp, and he’s wearing a pair of shorts and a Flyers hoodie that Nolan recognizes. “I thought you didn’t need clothes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fucking freezing in here. And it was right there.”

Nolan moves to get up, to make room, but Travis gets a knee on the couch and climbs right on top of him, stretching out over him. He just…fits nicely, sturdy and pleasantly heavy with his head tucked under Nolan’s chin. Nolan touches his back, makes sure he doesn’t slide off.

“You falling asleep on me?”

“No,” he says through another yawn.

“You can nap until the food gets here.”

“No thanks.” Travis nudges Nolan’s hoodie aside with his nose and starts kissing his neck. “Rather do this.”

Nolan swallows. Travis’s stubble scrapes against his neck, and it makes him shiver. “Okay.”

“Is this weird?”

“Uh, is what weird?”

Travis shrugs, and Nolan can feel the muscles of his back move under his hand. “That it’s _not_ weird. Unless you _do_ think it’s weird, I guess.”

“I’m confused,” Nolan decides. “_You’re_ being weird.”

Travis laughs, his breath hot against his neck, and moves back enough so Nolan can see his face. “This is only, like, the third time we’ve, y’know, seen each other. And it’s not weird, right? Between us.”

“No.”

“Exactly. Is that weird?”

Nolan shrugs. “I mean, maybe. But we knew each other before, sorta.”

“This is better, though,” he says. He phrases it like a question, sort of, as if Nolan’s going to say that being in person and having Travis on top of him, smelling like his body wash, is somehow worse than just sending snaps back and forth.

“Obviously,” he says, then gets a hand in Travis’s hair and tugs him in for a kiss. He leans into it eagerly, relaxing his weight over Nolan, and Nolan slides his free hand under his sweatshirt, onto the hot skin of his back.

They kiss and kiss and kiss until Nolan’s way more than half-hard in his sweats, and he groans when his phone vibrates against the coffee table.

“Is that the food?” Travis asks, and Nolan nods. “Do you wanna eat right now?”

“No,” Nolan admits. “Do you?”

He’s kissing Nolan’s neck again. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure? Pretty sure you mentioned something about being starving.”

“My priorities have changed.” One more sucking kiss, then he pulls off and moves away enough so Nolan can get up. “Go get it, we’ll eat later.”

He puts on a pair of slides and fetches the pizza, but when he gets back, the living room is empty. His heart is pounding, part nerves and part excitement, so he tosses the pizza somewhere and goes into the bedroom.

It’s overwhelming, seeing Travis in his bed. Seeing him _shirtless_ in his bed. He isn’t naked or posing or doing anything ridiculous, thank god, just lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows and doing something on his phone. He looks over his shoulder when he hears Nolan come in, and Nolan swallows.

He strips off his own shirt and joins him on the bed. The nerves have taken over, but he tries to ignore them, focuses instead on Travis, on kissing him and pressing him down into the bed.

“Hey,” Travis says against his mouth after a minute, his hand against Nolan’s chest, “slow down.”

Nolan instantly moves back, face flushing in embarrassment. He knew—he knew he’d screw this up somehow, fuck. “Sorry,” he grits out.

“Don’t apologize. Just relax.”

“Telling someone who’s nervous to relax definitely works,” he says flatly.

Travis pokes him for that, right in the armpit, and Nolan squirms away, using his longer reach to poke him right back, and then they’re wrestling. Travis is stronger than Nolan would have guessed, and it takes more effort than he anticipated to force him down onto his back. He’s laughing a little, breathing hard, and his hand is on the back of Nolan’s neck, absentmindedly tangling his fingers in his hair.

Nolan still feels slightly self-conscious, but it’s easier when he doesn’t have to look at him so he ducks down and kisses him. That was clearly the right decision, as Travis immediately opens his mouth and arches up against him. That much warm skin against Nolan’s is kind of a revelation, and he doesn’t know what to concentrate on.

“C’mere,” Travis murmurs, nonsensically as they’re basically as close together as they can be. He pushes up and rearranges them until they’re on their sides, legs tangled together. He’s hard, Nolan can feel it against his hip.

“What do you want,” Travis says as he noses at his cheek. “Or we can st—”

“You said…” Nolan falls onto his back with a little whine, and his hand drifts down toward his hip. Travis grins.

“You remember what I said.”

Nolan closes his eyes because that’s less embarrassing and slides his hand into his briefs. “I remember everything you said.”

Travis was right, it’s different with him there, leaning heavily against his side. His gaze is hot, as are his hands as they skate across Nolan’s stomach. He leans down to swipe his tongue across Nolan’s nipple, and he shakes.

It’s somewhat overwhelming, to come with Travis’s eyes on him, but whatever, it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before. His heart is still pounding as Travis leans over his chest and kisses him, kind of sloppy. He has his own hand in his boxers, and when Nolan recovers enough, he reaches over and hauls Travis on top of him. It isn’t smooth or elegant, but it works.

“Fuck,” Travis says, balancing with a hand on Nolan’s chest as Nolan shoves his boxers down. “I—”

He comes before Nolan can even do anything, all over Nolan’s stomach, with this noise that’s half of a groan and half of a laugh. He stays there for a second, taking deep breaths with his hair falling into his eyes, then rolls off with a deep sigh. Nolan kisses his shoulder because it’s there and escapes to the bathroom because he’s kind of gross.

When he gets back, Travis is spread-eagle in the middle of the bed, eyes closed, smiling.

“You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

“Just got a pretty good orgasm from a pretty hot guy, so I’m doing great.”

Nolan rolls his eyes and climbs back into bed. Travis shifts toward him and opens his eyes.

“I dunno. I—while we were talking before and stuff, like, I really liked it and I really liked you, but I was also trying to be, uh, realistic, I guess. I tried not to let myself think that you could be someone that I could actually, y’know, date.”

“Oh, so we’re dating now?”

“Fuck off,” Travis says, still grinning. “You like me, don’t lie.”

Nolan doesn’t need to say anything, he’s sure it’s all showing on his dumb face. “I didn’t think I would date anyone. For, like a long time.”

“What’s your best-case scenario?” he asks, and Nolan pauses.

“Like, realistically?”

“Sure.”

Nolan has to think about it. He’s spent so much time scrutinizing the worst-case scenarios—and there are a lot of them—that he’s never actually thought about the other side. “Um. I don’t…coming out, like, for real seems like it would be pretty awful.”

He slides his gaze over to Travis, but he doesn’t look disappointed or anything, he just nods. “Yeah, probably,” he says easily.

“But like—it would be nice to, you know, date someone. Friends and family would know, the team would know.”

“Oh, so we’re dating now?” Travis parrots, and Nolan hits him with a pillow.

“I’m hungry, let’s eat.”

“Do I have to move from right here?”

“Yeah, I don’t like crumbs in my bed.”

Travis groans theatrically but rolls over and pulls clothes on. It’s definitely Nolan’s shirt that he puts on, but he doesn’t mention it.

In the kitchen, Travis hops up onto the counter and opens the pizza box that Nolan left on the stove. “Fuck that looks good,” he says, then lets out a truly pornographic moan around his first bite.

“Wow, didn’t hear that noise in bed.”

He shrugs and takes a second, even bigger bite. “Gotta try harder, I guess.”

“Asshole,” Nolan mutters as he reaches for his own piece of pizza.

“So when did you know?”

“When did I know what?”

“That you liked guys,” he says, through a mouthful. It’s just strange, that Travis knows all the things about him that no one else does but nothing about the things that everyone knows. Or he does now, probably, but it certainly doesn’t seem like he gives a shit.

“Um. I guess in high school and stuff, I just thought I was a late bloomer or whatever. And then I, uh—” Nolan’s face heats at the memory. “I dunno, I met someone, a guy. And I was, y’know, attracted to him. Then things sorta started making sense.”

“Nothing happened?”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I mean, he’s straight. And it was just, like, a crush. Didn’t mean anything.”

“Should I be jealous? I could probably take him, right?”

“No to both,” Nolan says, and he grins when Travis makes an affronted face and kicks at him. Nolan catches his ankle, but Travis gets a leg around his thigh and hauls him closer.

“C’mere.”

“No,” he says, just to be contrary, but leans in to kiss him anyway.

* * *

Nolan’s alarm goes off with a sharp trill, jerking him awake.

“Oh my god,” Travis whines from behind him. “What is that, make it stop.”

“My alarm, dumbass,” Nolan says as he stretches to turn it off. He was definitely the big spoon when they fell asleep last night, but at the moment Travis has an arm draped over his waist and is burying his face between Nolan’s shoulder blades.

“It’s Saturday, why do you have an alarm?”

“I have a game today.”

“Oh, right.” Travis yawns, his mouth scraping against the bare skin of Nolan’s back, and scoots even closer. “Isn’t it, like, an afternoon game or something?”

“Yeah, hence the alarm.”

“When do you actually have to leave?”

“Like…half an hour or so.”

Travis hums but doesn’t say anything. It’s warm, under the covers, and quiet. Nolan can even hear some birds chirping outside his window, which he’s sure as fuck never noticed before.

He dozes a little bit, at least until Travis starts kissing along his hairline and trailing his fingers up Nolan’s chest. He’s mostly hard already, just from the fact that it’s morning, and it only takes a few passes of Travis’s warm hand over his skin until he’s all the way there.

Travis fiddles with the waistband of his boxers. “Can I?” he asks, and Nolan nods, then sucks in a breath as he actually wraps a hand around his dick for the first time. They got a little carried away last night on the couch after dinner, just rutting against each other, and Nolan ended up coming in his pants like a teenager. Travis laughed into his neck but wasn’t too far behind him, so.

His grip is a little dry and a little slow, but it’s devastating all the same.

“Thought about this so much,” he says into Nolan’s skin. “Fuck, look at you, fucking perfect.”

Nolan closes his eyes and tries to take even breaths. This feels particularly illicit, he doesn’t know if it’s the daylight filtering through the blinds or the way he can feel Travis’s eyes on him, watching himself jerk Nolan off.

“I’m—faster.”

“Greedy,” Travis chastises gently, right into his ear, but he obediently speeds up and Nolan groans. It’s slicker now and fucking perfect.

“Shit. Yeah, like—like that, fuck.”

“Open your eyes, baby, c’mon, watch.”

Nolan traps a noise behind his teeth. He does it, though, looks down and can barely handle the sight of his dick in Travis’s hand.

Travis quickens the pace of his hand and tightens his grip, just a bit, and Nolan relaxes back against him as the inevitability takes over. He holds his breath and finally comes, shivering as it rolls over him. He can feel the vibration against his back of Travis’s own groan, and it makes him shake again. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t even wait for the aftershocks to be over before he twists around, taking Travis’s mouth and yanking down his boxers. It’s his left hand and the angle isn’t the best, but Travis doesn’t seem to mind, shoving up into his grip and gasping into the kiss. Nolan has pretty fucking decent coordination, he can handle this, jerking him off with his non-dominant hand and kissing him at the same time.

It works, Travis groans as he comes all over Nolan’s fingers and bites down on his lip a little too hard. He tucks his face into Nolan’s neck, breathing hard, and Nolan wipes his fingers across the sheets before sliding his hand into Travis’s hair.

“Did you just get come in my hair,” Travis mumbles.

“I wiped my hand off first!”

* * *

So Nolan’s in a pretty decent mood as he heads into the arena. More so than he would have expected for an afternoon game, which usually pisses him off because it alters his routine. He’s not—he wouldn’t say there’s a _spring_ in his step, or anything ridiculous like that, but he does find himself tapping his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of his music.

He parks, waves at the security guys, and fails to avoid the social media girl filming them all as they walk in. “Hey, G,” he says as he passes him in the hall.

Claude gapes at him, and Nolan slows. He even looks behind himself to see what he’s making a face at. “What?”

“You just _smiled_ at me, are you sure you’re—“

Nolan rolls his eyes and shoulders past him roughly into the locker room.

* * *

After the game Claude plops down next to him, bumping their shoulders together.

“Okay, seriously.”

Nolan leans over to untie his skates and winces as the muscles in his back stretch with the movement. He is a professional athlete, three rounds of energetic yet fairly basic sex shouldn’t make him sore. “What?”

“You gave me a real smile at ten in the morning and then you went and scored a fucking hat trick. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Smiling.”

“I was not!” Nolan protests because he knows he wasn’t.

“Your eyes were. What’s going on, dude?”

“Nothing,” he echoes because he’s most definitely not telling Claude this. Not ever, maybe, and certainly not in the middle of the dressing room.

Claude wraps an arm around him and leans in closer until their temples are touching, even though they’re both disgusting right now. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” It’s kind of a lot right now, the music that’s already thumping through the dressing room and the residual strum of energy from the game, he can’t handle Claude looking at him so earnestly, too.

Claude seems satisfied and slaps his thigh. “Good job, ya fucking beauty.”

He finishes getting his gear off, but the Flyers folks don’t even let him shower before they make him take the picture with the pucks. He has to talk to what feels like a thousand media people, which sucks, but eventually he manages to sneak away without attracting the attention of his teammates, who would surely like to go out and celebrate his hat trick.

Nolan refuses to let himself get used to the sight of Travis in his apartment when he gets home. He just asked him to stay so they could get dinner, that’s all.

Travis laughs at him as soon as he walks through the door. “Obviously we should’ve started dating sooner, for the sake of your career.”

Nolan kicks off his shoes and lays his coat across one of his bar stools. “Don’t think so highly of yourself, it was the Sharks, they fucking suck.”

Travis tugs him down onto the couch by his tie, making Nolan wince. “Ow,” he complains, but he gets a knee on the cushion and kisses him.

“So hat trick blow jobs are a thing, right?”

“Oh my god.” Nolan flushes. “You definitely don’t—”

“I thought you remembered everything I said,” Travis says teasingly as he works the knot of his tie undone. “I want to, didn’t I say that?”

“You, uh, did say that.”

Travis slides to his knees right there, pushing Nolan’s legs apart and working at his belt. He doesn’t really understand how he can _still_ be horny, after three orgasms in the past 24 hours, but his dick disagrees. He’s still a little worked up from the game, and he’s surprised he can’t see his heart beating through his shirt.

Travis gets his pants open and down far enough to get his dick out, then spends a little bit of time unbuttoning the bottom of Nolan’s shirt. Nolan swallows, with difficulty. “Please.”

Travis grins up at him, just for a second, and then his mouth is on his dick. It’s so wet and warm, Nolan isn’t sure how he can survive this. He doesn’t let himself look for a couple minutes, just keeps his eyes closed, but eventually he realizes that it’s going to be over soon, anyway, might as well get the full sensory experience.

Travis is obviously jerking off, Nolan can see, and he reaches down to get a grip on his bicep. “Don’t, I wanna—” He can’t quite make himself finish that sentence.

Travis moans around Nolan’s dick, which doesn’t really help with the whole coming-too-soon situation, but obediently takes his hand out of his shorts. He grabs Nolan’s hand instead, tangling their fingers together and squeezing.

It’s soft as fuck, but so is Nolan, apparently, because he comes just like that, on the couch and still wearing the majority of his suit. He gasps up at the ceiling, scrubbing his free hand through his sweaty hair. “Holy fuck.”

Travis looks thoroughly pleased with himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s hard, tenting his shorts, and Nolan uses the last of his energy to stand up and grab Travis’s shoulder, hauling him up off the floor. “C’mon.”

He marches Travis into the bedroom, wrestling his shirt off on the way, and pushes him down onto the bed so Nolan can actually take off his suit. He hangs up his jacket and his pants, which he thinks deserves a fucking medal, and leaves everything else in a pile on the floor.

Travis is naked on the bed, hand on his dick, and Nolan glares at him as he finishes taking off his socks. “If you make yourself come, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Travis laughs and reaches for him as soon as he gets one knee on the bed. They kiss for a bit, until Travis grinds up against him. Nolan holds him down with a hand on his hip, and Travis groans, his eyes going a little hazy. “You really don’t have to, I—”

“I know. Just…tell me if it’s bad or whatever.” He’s a fast learner and _coachable_, thank you very much, he can pick it up.

“Babe, it’s not gonna be _bad_, I—oh holy shit.”

It’s not as awkward as he feared it might be, having a dick in his mouth. Probably because it’s Travis’s dick. It doesn’t hurt that he seems super jazzed about the whole thing, running his hands through Nolan’s hair and making a lot of noise—just a lot of _yeahs_ and breathy little moans. His nails dig into Nolan’s shoulder, and Nolan can feel the muscles in his thigh twitching under his arm.

And Travis comes before his jaw can even get sore, which is pretty great, actually. His grip on Nolan’s hair tugs him up in time, mostly, so it only gets a little on his chin. Nolan sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth as he takes in the sight of Travis sprawled out on his sheets, chest heaving. Before, when they were just messaging, he tried not to indulge himself in thinking about things like this. But now that it’s real, he tries to memorize every detail.

“_Je-sus_,” Travis says, all stretched out. “Thought a lot about that, too.”

Nolan flicks him on the thigh, and Travis makes a wounded noise. He holds his arm out. “Cuddle me, c’mere.”

Nolan cleans his hand off on the sheets—he should really wash these, probably—and obeys.

* * *

Travis shakes a cereal box at him. “This one has less sugar, though.”

Nolan frowns and takes it from him. It’s been a couple weeks, and even though they both have weird, irregular schedules, they make it work. Sometimes they have “breakfast” at 6pm before Travis goes on a night shift, sometimes they can only meet up late on game nights, and sometimes, like today, they go grocery shopping on a Monday morning.

“Patty!”

Nolan’s gaze jerks up. Claude is at the end of the aisle, waving at him. Nolan waves back, on autopilot, and Claude starts coming toward them. Travis starts to shift away, but Nolan grabs his elbow as his brain whirs. He could lie—he could say that Travis is his buddy. Claude would believe it, Travis would be fine with it, and everything would be okay.

“This is Claude,” he says to Travis. He double-checks that the aisle is otherwise empty. “G, this is my boyfriend Travis.”

God bless Claude Giroux because he doesn’t even react at all, just holds out his hand and smiles. “Hey, great to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.”

It’s awkward for a second, and Nolan’s grip tightens on the basket over his arm. He opens his mouth to make an excuse to leave, but Claude speaks first. “You guys should come over for dinner!”

Nolan winces. He’s not sure if he’s ready for a whole double date, dinner party type of situation. “I—”

“C’mon, we’ll just order in or something. Ry’s out of town, I’m bored. The Pens are playing the Caps tonight, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Sure,” Travis says, before Nolan can conjure up some fake plans they already have.

“Awesome.” Claude claps Travis on the shoulder. “Good to meet you, see you boys tonight.”

Once Claude is gone and they’re safely back in the car, Nolan presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and exhales. His heart is about to pound out of his chest and his legs are a little shaky, but everything’s fine. _Everything’s fine_, he repeats.

“Sorry I called you my boyfriend. Probably should’ve asked.”

Travis tugs on his elbow, and Nolan drops his hands. There are little spots dancing in front of his eyes, but he can tell that Travis is smiling. “Good with me, I gotta lock this shit down.”

Nolan’s phone vibrates, and he checks it to see a text from Claude that just has about a dozen question marks. He ignores it and puts his phone back in his pocket. “We don’t have to go, really. I can tell him I’m not ready or whatever, he’ll understand.”

“It’s fine with me, really. Up to you.”

Nolan makes a face. “Fine.”

* * *

Dinner at Claude’s is less awkward than Nolan was worried it’d be. He orders Italian, and they eat pasta on his couch while cheering for bad plays in the Pens-Caps game. Claude mildly threatens Travis during commercial breaks, but he takes it like a champ while Nolan just sits there between them, flushed and grumpy about it.

“So who knows? Just so I,” Claude makes some kind of vague hand gesture, “y’know.”

“Uh, Trav’s roommate.” Nolan wasn’t too pleased about that one, he doesn’t even fucking know the guy, but he’s been Travis’s best friend since forever or whatever. And it’d be a dick move, probably, to not let Travis tell _anyone_. “And my mom and sister. That’s it.”

Travis grins at him. “Aw, you told your mom?”

“Don’t look so excited, she wants to meet you.”

“Not worried, moms love me.”

“Well aren’t you two adorable.”

“Shut up,” Nolan says, with feeling, and Claude just grins at him.

“Do you _want_ to tell people? Like, more people. The team.”

Nolan swallows. The thought of it being a _thing_, of him having to stand up and, like, tell them all personal shit kind of makes him want to throw up. “I don’t know. Not yet.”

“No big,” Claude says easily. “Just let me know if you ever want to. No one would have a problem with it.”

Nolan laughs. “Yes, they would.” He likes their teammates and all, but he has a little trouble believing that every single one of them would be totally, one hundred percent cool with having a gay teammate who has a boyfriend.

Claude smiles, but it’s one of his scary ones. Nolan sometimes forgets that he can be a terrifying motherfucker. “No they wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Travis says slowly, standing up. “I’m gonna go get another beer.”

“I’m not kidding, Pats, if you wanted to tell them, we’d make sure it wasn’t a problem.” Claude blinks and then he’s back to normal. “Just let me know, kay? I like him. How’d you guys meet?”

Nolan grimaces. Travis comes back and slides an open beer in front of him. He takes a grateful sip.

“Why do you look like you’re dying?”

“He asked how we met,” he says, and Travis, that traitor, laughs.

“Guess we better come up with a story, huh,” he says, and Claude looks delighted.

“Well now you have to tell me.”

Nolan sighs. “We met on Grindr,” he says, and predictably, Claude laughs for about 15 seconds.

Then looks a little concerned. “I totally support however you want to handle this, but if you’re trying to stay under the radar then—”

“I’m not an idiot,” Nolan snaps.

“He was very anonymous, don’t worry,” Travis says, and Claude grins.

“Your secret girlfriend!”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Travis asks, and Nolan glares at Claude.

“I never—”

“He was always texting someone, and he wouldn’t tell us who it was, so we were convinced he had a secret girlfriend.” Claude turns to Nolan and looks alarmingly earnest. “Which was very heteronormative of us, I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, how do you even know that word.”

“I was doing some reading!”

Nolan puts his head in his hands, and Travis pats his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! thanks <3


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